


Day Twenty Nine: Crappy New Year's Resolutions

by elizabethwcu



Series: December 2014 Fanfiction Challenge [29]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: DECFANFIC, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 01:51:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3100634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizabethwcu/pseuds/elizabethwcu





	Day Twenty Nine: Crappy New Year's Resolutions

"I resolve — is that the word, Zayn? I resolve to, to not, um. This is hard. I’m not gonna make out with you when I’m drunk anymore."

"Haz, that’s a lie and you know it."

"Hey! Somebody told me once that a crappy resolution is better than no resolution at all. So I’m making a crappy one so I can at least feel like I tried."

Zayn thinks about that. “You have a point, but you’re probably gonna break that resolution within a couple of hours, mate.” He’s probably right; Harry is twice as drunk as he is and keeps looking at him with these eyes…Zayn doesn’t know how to describe it but he knows what happens when Harry looks like that. Not that he minds making out with Harry, he really doesn’t mind and doesn’t know why anyone would mind. It’s just that…he can’t think of a good reason that would make sense. There’s just something about it that’s…off.

Harry looks offended by what Zayn said. “Will not! I bet that I can last longer not wanting to kiss you than you can last not wanting to kiss me.”

Zayn thinks that Harry really doesn’t want to make that bet.

"You really don’t want to make that bet, mate."

"Yes I do," Harry says, and he would probably stomp his foot if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind and stumbling all over the hotel room.  
They sit in silence for a few minutes, Harry occasionally humming or singing to himself, a habit he’s recently gotten into doing while drunk.

"What’s yours?" he asks, and Zayn is glad that he’s got a good memory and knows exactly what Harry’s talking about.

"I don’t know. Maybe to chill out more, like. Not let the stress of performing and the wedding and all that get to me."

"That sounds good, but you’re already more chill than me and all the other lads combined. Pick something else."

"Why?"

"Yours sucks."

"I didn’t make you pick something else! It’s guaranteed that you’re gonna break yours and you don’t see me protesting. Didn’t you just say a crappy resolution is better than no resolution at all?"

Harry thinks about that for a second. “Yeah, but that’s just for me. You have to pick a new one.”

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"Oh yeah?" Zayn asks, smirking and knowing exactly what what he’s about to say is going to do. "Make me."

So Harry launches himself across the bed that’s between him and Zayn and kisses him, because that’s what you’re supposed to do when someone tells you to make them do anything. Harry is satisfied when Zayn’s hands find his hips, and Zayn is satisfied that he made Harry cave so quickly.


End file.
